Sanrio Knights
by SillyDragon09
Summary: A post BecomingNFA tale of slayers, a Watcher, and a certain bleached blonde vampire...
1. Meet The Flintstones

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 1 – Meet the Flintstones

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

I hate Indiana. The place is full of really nasty bloodsuckers, and I don't mean just the vampires. The mosquitoes hang in the air, drifting amidst dancing lightning bugs like little stealth fighters waiting to zip in and stick ya. Who knows? Maybe they are vampires in disguise. I envision a special breed of vampires, unknown to the Watchers, who possess the ability to change into blood-sucking bugs the way some other do into wolves and bats.

My hand smacked at one of the little monsters currently drilling a hole in my arm; my other hand was full, holding up a pair of night vision binoculars so I could peer down into the Restful Cemetery below at the base of the hill. We had the entire cemetery under surveillance from all sides, ultra sensitive mikes picking up every cricket chirp and moth flutter. My perimeter was the north fence, which sat just at the base of the hill. I was above that, watching from a safe distance and acting as the team coordinator.

I finished scanning the perimeter of the cemetery. "Hello Kitty, there are those two vampires near the south wall. No sign of the target," I said into the tiny microphone that was part of my headset. The receiver lodged in my ear enabled me to hear everything that was said. Every member of my team wore one. We all have code names too. Mine is Cinnamoroll. Cinn for short.

"Roger that, changing my heading," said Peggy AKA Hello Kitty. The slayer did so, but meandered, not taking a direct path there because it'd blow her cover. Likewise, her mike and earpiece were both concealed. It was her job to patrol the graveyard, and to act as vamp bait.

You know, cute stupid teenage girl alone in a cemetery at midnight? Vampires could smell it a mile off, and amazingly, always came running. You think they'd be smarter. The scenario practically screams, "Slayer!" A staggering number of incredibly stupid bloodsuckers fall for it.

"Any sign of Badtz Maru?" I said, using the target's code name, showing my anxiety in a hundred little ways. I'd already asked that question way too many times tonight, pleading on a high n' squeaky tone for one of my girls to deliver the goods.

"All clear on the west perimeter," said Sasha, a tall and nubile African American slayer who went by the code name Chococat. All of the members of my team are Americans, though, from different parts of the country.

"Likewise over here in the east," said Ling Ling, code name Pandapple. The Asian enchantress wasn't a slayer. Instead, she handles all things that are mo n' jo for my team. She's not Willow – not by a long shot – but she can hold her own in a spell-off.

"Ditto other than the two known hostiles," said Blake who was covering the south wall. Blake was a member of the Initiative and likes to use lots of military lingo. He's also the only guy on the team – our token male. He takes care of the equipment and is a great marksman. He refuses to use a "Hello Kitty" code name but the girls call him Chi Chai Monchan behind his back. Shhh, don't tell him.

Our unit is called the Sanrio Knights. Cute? Yes, we are. Even Blake who has dreamy brown eyes and a generous mouth and a strong jaw, and is so incredibly handsome… He's smart too, except that he's an idiot about the things that matter. Stoopid man.

I'm a Watcher by the way. Did I mention that? I watch. (And give orders.) It's what I do. Isn't that tight?

"Calm down, Cinn," Sasha drawled. "He'll show. He comes through here every night at about the same time."

"Right, I'm calm," I said even though I wasn't. I had all the symptoms of stage fright or first date terror. I'd been hyperventilating into the mike. Dry scratchy throat. Racing heart. Sweaty palms. _ShowShowShow, _it was a nervous chant in my head, distracting me from doing my job of Watching.

"Oh, I'm so mad at my boyfriend for not showing for our secret assignation," Peggy announced loudly as she neared the area where the two vampires had been spotted.

Peggy is petite and blonde, and incredibly cute. She has big baby blues and the cutest little button nose, and looks just like a pretty little china doll. She's the perfect bait when we're trolling – all except for the fact that she's way smarter than she looks.

"Hello Kitty, dumb it down," I said, exasperated. _Jesus. _These vampires probably weren't Rhodes Scholars but how dumb could they be?

Peggy muttered a rebellious reply, and then more loudly, "Right."

Luckily, there really wasn't time for more talking. The pair of vampires had taken the bait, and were heading for Peggy. One was a huge, hulking, scruffy Harley Davidson type rider with 'Mom' tattooed on his arm. Naturally, his companion was Barney Rubble short, but equally massive in a barrel-shaped capacity. Between them there was enough facial and body hair to cover a dozen normal people. The first time I'd spotted them I'd wondered whether they were werewolves, but my slayers had all assured me that they were undead.

Peggy let loose with an shrill ear-splitting scream. The amplified mike picked it up and times it by a thousand, shattering my eardrum. I winced and grabbed for my earpiece.

Good thing Peggy cut her girlish shriek of terror short cause her performance had just about deafened our entire team. Curses rang across the line, and general chaos erupted. Faster than a blink, the two vampires were on top of Peggy.

"HELP!" Peggy shouted, and it came through at more manageable level this time. Ling Ling must've adjusted the volume control.

"I'm being attacked by big scary men with funny looking teeth!" Peggy piped at the top of her falsetto, manifesting a very convincing fear all big eyes and trembling.

There's a good reason we always let Peggy be the bait. She's great at it.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear," said Fred Flintstone who apparently had at least a marginal, if not original, sense of humor. The huge vampire grabbed for Peggy who skillfully evaded while making it look like she'd accidentally stumbled clear.

"Should we go in?" Sasha demanded, straining at the bit. Her eagerness hummed along the radio, buzzing in my ear.

"Wait for it!" I said, tense and ready to spring. "Wait wait wait…" Barney began to circle to the left of Peggy; Fred to the right.

"I've got him!" Blake shouted so suddenly that I gave a little shriek and jumped clean out of my skin. "Badtz Maru just passed me! Fuck! He's fast!"

"Yes! Yesyesyes!" I shouted with a burst of joy, sounding embarrassingly close to a woman experiencing a climax. I didn't care. I performed a quick Snoopy dance and then glued my face to the binoculars again.

A melodramatic blur of lithe figure clad in billowy leather coat cleared the fence, using his arms for support and swinging his legs just like a gymnast. He was beautiful: shiny and striking. He landed and advanced with that cocky swagger that said he was Big N' Bad – master vampire.

"Nice work, boys," Spike drawled, sauntering up to Fred and Barney who'd turned slightly toward the newcomer. "I'll take it from here."

"Close on the target!" I instructed my team, drooling with predatory intent. So excited that I was ready to wet my pants. "Go Go Go Go Go!"

End Part 1.


	2. Eh Tu?

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 2 – Eh Tu?

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

"Go Go Go Go Go!"

I couldn't contain my excitement, which seemed to channel down into my feet, setting my entire body to bouncing up and down in a frantic bunny hop. Only my legs are long, and gorgeous, at least according to the girls. (Not that Blake would ever notice…) So my legs, they sorta shot out all over the place, and it's really amazing that I didn't take a tumble head first down the hill.

On my order, the members of my team stared toward where Peggy, Spike, and the two vampires had gathered in the south cemetery. Sasha and Ling Ling closed from the West and East, respectively, and Blake had to scale the southern wall.

Meanwhile that left Peggy alone down there with three vampires. It'd take my people a minute or so to get to them, and in the middle of combat, a minute equals eternity. But it was a calculated risk – and minimal according to our estimates – that she was in any real danger from any of them.

"Who're you? Get outta here. This is our meal. We have dibs," Fred said, glaring at Spike as he approached.

"Wait! Isn't he-" Barney's revelation would never come. He'd put up a hand, palm out, as if the gesture alone could stop Spike.

"I can't believe how stupid they're making fledges these days," Spike complained as he came in under Barney's outstretched arm, slipping a stake up between his ribs. He strode smoothly through the explosion of ash, emerging just as Fred let loose with a terrible growl.

"Ooohhh, wow! That guy just went POOF! And OH GROSS! I'm covered in DIRT!" Peggy gushed effusively, batting her long lashes while manifesting vapid outrage for her apparel.

Someone on the radio – maybe me – groaned. Total overkill. And Spike isn't stupid at all. Not even remotely. (Well, except maybe when it comes to women and true love, and implementing a plan. And then he's an idiot.)

Spike stopped in his tracks, affixing Peggy with a look of patent disbelief. I leaned so far forward, pressing my face into those binoculars so hard in order to read his expression, that I must've left two dark rings around my eyes.

"What…?" Spike began. Something was rotten in Denmark. His nose twitched, and I could just see the thought – _Slayer_ – registering in his mind. Bright blue eyes narrowed, glaring at Peggy, and so Spike's face walked right into Freddy's punch.

Spike got knocked off his feet, and Peggy instantly dropped the bimbo act, kicking at the back of the burly vampire's knees. Fred felled like a tree, and Peggy stepped up behind him and slammed a stake home.

More dust.

Spike regained his feet with a smooth back push, and squared off across from Peggy. This time his demeanor was cautious and wary. He realized that he'd fallen for the same ruse – pretty dumb girl alone in cemetery – that the other vampires had, even if his motive had been coming to her rescue. He'd still been tricked, and now he was royally pissed.

Spike is pretty when he's pissed. His face sets in that adorable stubborn/determined expression. He's also dangerous, and fast, and good enough to take any one of my slayers. Peggy wouldn't stand a chance if he seriously went after her. Not that I thought for a second he would. But just in case he got angry enough… Well, I'd coached Peggy in all the right names to drop starting with Buffy. And then Buffy in the middle. And Buffy at the end.

"What's this about then?" Spike demanded, circling to Peggy's right. She moved obligingly to the left, keeping hold of her stake.

"Almost there," Sasha announced. As a slayer she moved faster than either Blake or Ling Ling, and would most likely be the first on the scene.

"What do _you_ suppose this is, Spike?" Peggy asked with a cute, perky smile. Ever one to play head games, our Hello Kitty.

"Dunno, don't care. You know me then?" Just a degree of the tension in Spike's expression eased. He thought that he might be facing just one slayer who'd heard of him. Who knows he has a soul.

Peggy opened her mouth to reply, and at just that moment, Blake leapt over the wall, jumping straight down at Spike, attempting to toss a net over the vampire.

Spike dodged to the side and the net missed. Blake hit the ground and Spike whirled. Abruptly, all of his anger and suspicion was back full force. Spike didn't hold back when he punched Blake in the face, eliciting a shriek of fear and outrage from me.

"Oot! My poor honey-boo!" I exclaimed. Then slapped a hand over my big mouth, horrified that Blake might've heard. Even more worried that Spike ruined his beautiful face!

"Grab him! He's going to run!" I shouted. After three failed attempts, this was as close as we'd ever gotten to snaring our prey. If Spike escaped and went to ground this time, he might not be seen again for years.

You'd think that two slayers, a witch, and an Initiative solider were a cinch to capture one vampire, but I wasn't so sure. I threw down my binoculars and ran. I couldn't stand watching anymore. I had to be there, doing something, and so I sprinted pill-mill down that hill, stumbling in the dark the whole way.

"Got him!" Peggy shouted. A grunt and some scuffling sounds later: "Lost him! Ling Ling, he's heading your way!"

"Okay, I see him. Here he comes-"

I lost track of the conversation when I lost my earpiece to some overhanging grabby scratchy branches, which tangled in my hair. I fought my way free and continued to descend the hill, wearing a crown of twigs.

Somehow, amazingly, miraculously, Spike materialized right in front of me, melting out of the night. He was a blur of motion, entirely gray except for that bright swath of hair. I stopped; he stopped. We stared and his jaw dropped.

"Dawnie?" Spike said, caught in the grip of powerful disbelief. Spike always wears his every emotion right there on his exterior, nothing hidden away. Shock and hurt ruled his heart. He couldn't bring himself to believe that I'd betrayed him like this.

"Spike," I chirped, confused and embarrassed. Oh, and SO GUILTY. He made me feel just like I was 14 again. "I can explain."

Only, I couldn't, at least not right then. Because Sasha's taser blast caught Spike from behind, and his eyes rolled back, revealing the whites. He toppled to the ground at my feet.

End Part 2.


	3. R Is For Spike

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 3 – R is for Spike

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

I dropped to my knees beside Spike, kneeling in cemetery grass damp with midnight humidity, and gingerly lifted his head so that it rested against my knee. His hair was stiff with gel, slicked back against his skull, and his face was exactly as I'd remembered it. Youthful. Unchanging. Sharpness chiseled from ivory marble. That moment of reunion was like a Kodak photo: poignant, surreal, a frozen frame of time.

Sasha's feet stopped beside me, and the crystalline clarity of the mood shattered. I looked up to find her bending over for a close inspection, still holding her taser at ready in case he woke up suddenly.

"Dawn, are you okay?" Sasha asked.

"I'm fine," I replied.

The sound of running feet announced Peggy's arrival, and Ling Ling also joined us seconds later. "Blake's gone for the van," Peggy said, and I nodded, wincing when Sasha aimed a flashlight beam at Spike's face, putting him at the center of a micro-spotlight. He had a cut on his forehead, but it was minor. It'd be healed before we had a chance to clean the blood away.

"Damn, he's fine. If he were a brother, I'd be tempted to keep him for myself," Sasha drawled, giving Spike the once-over, just like all girls were doing. (Except me. Of course. Because Spike! Older brother. Mentor. Sometimes even my disreputable daddy-figure… And incest? EWWW.)

"Undead shouldn't look so good," Peggy agreed. "Most of 'em are uglier than sin. I didn't know they could be this pretty."

"Grab his feet, Kitty," Sasha directed Peggy. "Let's move him to the road."

"Wait." Ling Ling held up a vial of glitter-dust. Before I could query or protest, she uncapped the lid and dumped it unto her palm.

"Reveal," she whispered, blowing the sparkling dust over Spike's supine form. It fell, shimmering like a fairy trail, and as it settled on Spike he lit up with a firestorm of color. An aura borealis danced around him, mostly red and gold. Mostly red.

Red is for rebel.

Red is for blood.

Red is for passion.

Love.

Spike.

"He has a soul," Ling Ling announced, satisfied.

I sighed, bottling the genie of annoyance, and sticking a cork in it. _I could have told her that._

Sasha took Spike's shoulders, and Peggy his feet. "Damn, he's heavy for such a little guy," Sasha muttered.

"Some vampires are denser than others," I quipped with a quirky smile, and followed them, hoping really hard that Spike didn't wake up while in-transit. He'd be furious.

Ling Ling snorted. "Men," she said.

"Amen," Sasha agreed, chuckling.

We made it to the road that run up and down the length of the hill, and Blake was waiting with the van. He'd left the engine idling, and had the back doors open, ready to load.

The whole side of Blake's face was black n' blue. His left eye was swollen shut and bleeding, and looked just horrible. "Oh!" I gasped, and had to stifle sympathetic sentiments, which said aloud, would have revealed far more than I'd cared.

"It's only a scrape. Don't worry about it," Blake said with such total and magnificent bravery, smiling even in the face of hardship. He is so heroic! My poor honey-boo! My heart swelled, and I longed to be the one to nurse his injury.

It was Ling Ling who brought him an ice pack while Peggy and Sasha loaded Spike into the back of the van.

Sasha grabbed for shackles, but I shook my head. "No chains. He'll be mad enough as it is when he wakes up."

"Sounds like another good reason for why he should be restrained," Sasha replied, her expression setting in a determined mask, and Peggy looked like she was in agreement.

"He's a vampire, Dawn," Blake reminded me. "Soul or not. The chains are a good idea, at least until he's calmed down." Blake is always so cautious. I didn't blame him for wanting to be careful. I really didn't.

"No," I said, getting that stupid stubborn expression I used to wear when I was 14 and obnoxious. I had plenty of good – no, great – reasons for not wanting to chain Spike up. Only trouble was that not one of was rational or logical. They all came straight from the heart

It was Ling Ling who came to my rescue. "C'mon guys, lighten up. This guy's a hero. He's saved the world, and he's on the Council's do-not-slay list. Even if we don't trust him, we should trust Dawn's judgment and give him the benefit of the doubt."

(The Council's No-Slay list is short and elite. Just a few demons have made it, including Spike and Clem. Angel is on it too, though, they keep an asterisk next to his name. It's SOP to perform a soul check on Angel at the start of every encounter. Giles insists.)

"Thank you," I breathed, and it sounded like a prayer.

They left Spike and I alone in the back of the van with the doors shut, which would at least slow Spike down for a couple seconds if he decided to bolt. My team was waiting outside in case I needed them.

The back of the van has an interior light. I sat beside Spike cross-legged, and waited for him to wake up. Luckily, I didn't have much time for brooding or guilt before those baby blues were open and affixing me with a laser-sharp stare that possessed the same parental super-power Squirm Ray as Buffy and Giles.

He wore an open expression of wariness and hurt, and I was mega glad that I'd insisted on no chains. Spike sat up, performing a quick self-inspection, but never removing his gaze from me. He looked me over with such intensity – that virile male _thing_ that he does – of which I've never before been the recipient. Spike has bedroom eyes.

"You've turned into a real knockout, Nibblet," he said. "All grown up," he added deliberately.

I blushed. _Hard._

Awkward silence dragged out. I meant to offer an explanation, but my tongue had been tied into knots, and I couldn't get the words out.

"Is this some sort of belated revenge for what I tried to do to your sis?" Spike finally asked, and of course, I knew exactly what he was referring to.

We never made up. I never forgave him. I meant to, but I ran out of time. He died before I said the words.

My eyes rounded with shock, and my heart ached for him. His hurt was transparent, soul-deep, and his acceptance that he _deserved_ whatever punishment I chose to dish out, was horrifying to behold.

"NO! No no no, absolutely positively not!" I exclaimed. When I get really emotional, verbal eloquence tends to fly out the window. So I did the most heartfelt thing I could – followed instinct and impulse – and obeyed my heart.

I threw my arms around Spike's neck, buried my head against his neck, and allowed silent tears to flow.

His arms surrounded me, slowly, cautiously, strong and firm, holding and guarding. Safe.

"I've missed you, Bit," he said, and the sound of that old nickname was music to my ears.

"I've missed you too," I said, drawing away just a little in order to kiss him on the cheek.

Then I punched him in the chest. "You jerk! I've been trying to catch you for a year!"

End Part 3.


	4. Ditzy Not Daft

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 4 – Ditzy not Daft

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

"You jerk! I've been trying to catch you for a year!"

Spike cocked his head to right, and a smirk formed on his lips. He took on an expression of mixed amusement and curiosity, an "Okay, I'll bite"-face if ever I've seen one. But he wasn't just sitting there looking pretty. He was putting it all together, adding facts, drawing conclusions. His eyes lit up with understanding, and something else. I'd have said dislike, not of me, but rather the whole situation in general.

"This all was for me," he said, telling, not asking. "Everything. The whole setup: the fledges n' the daft blonde: to draw me in close enough to jump."

"Well, yeah," I said. "Don't call Peggy daft. If anyone should know better than to assume that a ditzy demeanor means that a slayer's stupid, it's you," I scolded.

Chagrin flashed in Spike's blue eyes, and he grinned. "All right, your point. Ditzy doesn't always equal daft." His lips parted, on the verge of asking after Buffy – while we were on the subject - but stopped himself. I think he wanted it too bad to take the risk.

"So why were you after me again?" he demanded. "There were a helluva lot easier ways to get my attention if you just wanted to talk."

"I'll explain everything but first I want to let my team know that I'm okay," I said. "They're probably all gathered directly outside, ready to jump you enmass." I nodded toward the van's rear doors.

"Lovely," Spike said, but nodded his consent.

I grabbed his hand. "First, promise me that you're not gonna bolt the second the doors open." I held on tight, and wasn't going to let go till I had his word. There was way too much riding on our having captured Spike only to lose him now.

Spike has spent the past three years running. Following some huge blowup in Los Angeles in May 2004, which the Council knows almost nothing about, Spike's been constantly on the move. The same is true of Angel, only he keeps company with a conspicuous bluish Old One chick who has a penchant for starting big fights. They keep a much higher profile than Spike does alone.

Spike considered, long and hard, and I knew that he was giving serious thought to leaving. I didn't push him because I wasn't going to force him to stay. Hopefully, his sense of curiosity would get the better of him, and he'd hang around at least long enough to hear my explanation.

I clung to his fingers instead of using words, relying on the connection to remind him that I loved him long before he ever got a soul. Unlike Buffy, I knew that Spike's love was real. Back then, I would've trusted him even without the chip, because Spike loved the both of us with all his heart.

Spike stared at our joined hands, and then allowed his heart to decide. "All right," he agreed with a small nod. "I'll stick around long enough to hear what you have to say." He squeezed my fingers and offered a cautious smile. With a huff, I released a breath that I hadn't known I was holding.

Spike opened up the back of the van, and sure enough, the Sanrio Knights were arrayed in a semi-circle waiting for us. Spike hopped out cautiously, and I more hurriedly, eager to get in front of him just in case someone got trigger-happy.

I was crazy-relieved to see that no one had weapons drawn. I had a feeling that was Ling Ling's doing. Pandapple rules the roost when she makes up her mind about something. Even Sasha who has a sorta alpha-complex going defers to Ling Ling.

"Spike, this is my team, the Sanrio Knights," I told him proudly. "That's Sasha-"

"Hey-" Chococat offered a cool nod. She wasn't willing to welcome a vampire – soul or no – with open arms. "I shot you," she added, spoiling for a fight.

Spike just grinned. "I'll remember that."

"-Peggy who you've met-"

"Hiya," Peggy chirped, once again doing her ditz impression, throwing in a little wave.

"Nice round punch," Spike drawled, and he offered Peggy _the look. _Sexy smile. Bedroom eyes. Damn. Peggy in return smiled like a cat with canary feathers clinging to her whiskers.

"Ling Ling."

"It is a pleasure to finally you meet you," the enchantress said with a formally offered hand, which Spike regarded for a second, and then shook.

"Heard about me then, have you?" Spike asked.

"Yes, both good and bad," Ling Ling replied. "From Dawnie – only good." They both looked at me, and I blushed again.

"And Blake," I finished, struggling not to wrap my mouth around his name like I wanted to suckle and savor it, (which I so totally did).

Spike actually turned toward Blake. Another male warranted the full frontal face-off. First, Spike looked at me, perceiving waaayyy too much for my comfort. I broke into a cold sweat and glared death-daggers at Spike. So help me, if he opened his big mouth!

Lucky for Spike, he chose a different tactic, and went back to regarding Blake. It took Spike approximately six seconds to choose his strategy for irritating Blake.

"Captain America," Spike said with snark. "What happened to your butterfly net?"

"Dropped it trying to catch a loon," Blake returned without missing a beat. My chest swelled with pride (for Blake, not Spike).

"Good to finally meet you, Captain Peroxide." Blake snapped off a military precision salute, one that Spike didn't stand a chance of returning without looking like a goofball.

I found my breath being held again, because Blake had been warned repeatedly about revealing his Initiative background. I wanted Spike to have a chance to like and accept Blake for himself before that got brought up.

Spike stared at Blake hard, his face so still that it cast his cheekbones into sharp relief. Only vampires and statues can attain such perfect immobility. Tension hummed in the air, saturating the atmosphere with the threat of violence.

I sucked in a sharp breath, and the mood communicated to the rest of the team. Both slayers were coiled springs, and Ling Ling's fingers flexed reflexively as she mouthed a spell.

"How's old Xander doing anyway?" Spike asked with a sudden cheeky grin, and I once again puffed out my breath, glaring at him. He'd created the tension on purpose, and dispelled it when he was ready, his smart-ass reply to Blake's salute.

"He's good. He sends his regards," replied Blake. The last time we were in London, he and Xander did some drinking and shot a few rounds of pool together. That must've been where Blake heard the Captain Peroxide nickname. Cause he sure didn't hear it from me!

The tension melted out of everyone, departing Ling Ling swiftly, and oozing more slowly from the pair of slayers.

"C'mon, everyone, let's go for coffee," I suggested, firm but making it an order. My job as Watcher is all about keeping everyone caffeinated and elevating morale. (In addition to knowing the more obscure points of mysticism and monsters.)

"Starbucks?" Blake said, getting out the van's keys.

"Have'ta be," Ling Ling said sourly. "I haven't seen a Pete's since we left California."

"And you never will on some godforsaken hellmouth like this," Peggy said.

"Kitty, Gary Indiana isn't a hellmouth," I told her gently.

"It isn't?"

Everyone had turned toward the van and was getting in. Spike caught my elbow, drawing me back. "I like your friends, Bit."

I smiled and hugged him. "So do I, so do I."

End Part 4.


	5. Mighty Mouse Trap

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 5 – Mighty Mouse Trap

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

"So the smokes clears and there he is wearing only a towel knotted at the hip," Ling Ling said, and then took a sip of her chai tea.

"A teeny tiny little towel," Peggy sniggered, holding up her fingers to demonstrate a square inch of cloth. (It was bigger than that. Really. But not much.)

"Oh man, I'd have given anything to see that," Spike said, dragging the sleeve of his leather trench over his eye to scrub at tears.

"That can be arranged," Blake intoned. "We got the whole thing on video." His words set the whole gang to giggling again.

"I'll burn you a copy to dvd," Blake volunteered, and Spike grinned. And, just like that, their friendship (Spike would say that they're 'mates') was cemented.

Of us all, only Ling Ling maintained her composure. The rest of us were laughing hysterically. Sasha and Peggy were both rolling in their metal patio chairs, and even Blake had a hand pressed to his side to keep it from hurting.

I gulped down air, and shifted my drink from the right hand to the left. "Angel was furious," I said. "It took him over an hour to calm down enough to risk letting him out of the summoning circle. And then Ling Ling insisted on doing a spell to be sure he had his soul before we let him go, and that set him off all over again."

"We never attempted another vampire-with-a-soul summoning spell again after that," Ling Ling said.

"Mr. Giles forbid it," Sasha said with a slight smile. Even the reticent Chococat had begun to warm to the camaraderie we'd established over Frappuccinos and double chocolate chunk brownies.

"Since then I've refined the spell," Ling Ling asserted. "However, I've not yet had the opportunity to test it." The Asian enchantress stared hopefully at Spike who shook his head no.

"No way. Find yourself another lab rat, love. This vampire-with-soul is as happy as a pig in mud _not_ being the subject of magical experimentation."

"Just as well," Peggy piped up with a sassy retort. "If magic worked more than twenty-five percent of the time, we slayers would be out of a job. After all, it was traditional hunt and capture methods that caught you."

The blonde slayer was looking at Ling Ling as she spoke, taking a deliberate jibe at the witch. "If we're rating the success of this endeavor on the number of failures per methodology, then traditional methods lose hands down."

Peggy put on one of her patented "What'd she say?" expressions, provoking a snigger from Spike, and a chuckle of approval from Blake. My eyes narrowed in a glare before I could stop myself, and then rounded comically as I tried to correct the revealing expression.

Of course, Spike noticed.

"We caught a Billy Idol look-alike in Vegas," Blake said, laughing. He refused to take any of this negative-talk seriously. Blake has always called our past failures "learning experiences" and said that they'll contribute to future successes. When I'm down, it's Blake who picks me up again. (Stopping now before I burst into an off-key rendition of Wind Beneath My Wings.)

"And there was that other bleached blonde in Albuquerque. That was a close call. We almost had him but he got away," Sasha added. "It's really amazing how many vampires there are with day-glo hair."

Spike glanced sharply at Sasha who stared back. "That was you?" Spike demanded.

"Well, damn. _That was you_!" Sasha returned with a low whistle. "We were never sure." She and Spike stared a while longer before donning grudging grins.

"All right, this has all been very amusing, but no one has told me yet _why_ the lot of you were trying to catch me in the first place," Spike interrupted, raising his voice enough to drown out some of the din that side conversations and hiccup-like laughing fits were producing.

"If you just wanted to talk, there were easier ways. Didn't have to build a better mousetrap," Spike added, focusing his attention on me. Having those bright blue eyes fixated on your face is like being at the center of a spotlight: it's disconcerting.

"All you had to do was stand out in the open, Bit. I'd have come right to you," Spike continued more softly with words meant for me.

I blushed. (Yeah, again.) "That would have been unsporting," I joked, determined to draw attention off of how flattered and self-conscious Spike made me feel. "I thought about using a mug of hot chocolate with those little marshmallows, but ultimately, a pretty blonde slayer seemed like the best bait."

I know Spike well enough to nail his soft spots. It was his turn to look uncomfortable and glance away. (Oh yeah, someone still has it bad for my sis…)

"Contacting you directly and requesting your cooperation was against the rules," Ling Ling finally supplied, deciding that the keep-Spike-guessing game had gone on long enough.

"Rules? How so?" Mr. Vampire looked intrigued.

"We weren't allowed to use Dawn, or to ask you to cooperate," Peggy said.

"No phone calls, emails, or any other communication that would've tipped you off," Sasha added.

Spike continued to sit there, looking both amused and confused. As a group, we weren't doing a very good job of being enlightening.

"You see, you were our final," I said. "Xander assigned us to capture you without utilizing any unfair advantage or personal connection. We've been after you for a year now." I glared just to show him that I hadn't entirely forgiven him for that yet.

Even though it'd been a fun year. We'd chased rumors of Spike from one coast of North America to the other. We'd partied in Baja, toured the Grand Canyon, attended the Burning Man festival, gone white water rafting, bungee jumping, parasailing, and skydiving. We'd motored around the country in a beat up old van, living out a real life drama of Scooby Doo, only the monster was almost always real and we didn't have a canine mascot.

"This was Harris' doing?" Spike demanded, thoroughly chagrined. Good old Xander had managed to put one over on Spike from 4,000 miles away.

"Yep," I said, smug as could be. "And that reminds me, I need to document your capture." I got out my camera phone and quickly snapped off a few shots of Spike with the gang gathered around a patio table in front of Starbucks. (Spike made one of those rude English gestures in a couple of pictures.)

I sent the pictures to Xander and Giles in London as an attachment, but didn't call. I'd email them a status report later. Right then, I didn't want to disrupt the mood. The Sanrio Knights were feeling really upbeat, having finally accomplished our goal.

"Hey!" I said as the full weight of realization hit me with epiphany-sized impact. "Oh! Oh wow! Do you guys know what this means?"

Everyone looked at me. Most of the girls wore expressions that said, "Well, duh," and Blake had a cute little tolerant smirk on his lips. Only Spike appeared sincerely puzzled.

"We've graduated!" I exclaimed, grabbing Spike's hands. "The Sanrio Knights are now the first official multi-talented, Council-sanctioned field team!"

I jumped to my feet, dancing again, while Spike remained seated. He grinned up at me. "Well, then," he said. "Yeah!"

End Part 5.


	6. Power Corrupts

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 6 – Power Corrupts

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

The phone rang just minutes after I'd sent the photos. It was Xander calling from London where it was mid-morning.

"Hi!" I exclaimed, turning slightly away from the others in order to hear better. Little social circles had formed as drink levels sank, and the lights inside the Starbucks had dimmed when it closed at midnight.

I'd been in orbit around Blake, hanging on his every word, while he and Sasha debated the politics of the war in Iraq. Ling Ling watched with smirking superiority, but refrained from offering up an opinion. And Spike and Peggy had squared off, forming a sexually charged subset off to the side. To the casual glance, it looked like they were hooking up.

"Xander!" I greeted him. "Wow, that was fast! Did you get the pictures?" The others went quiet, heads turning in my direction.

"Dawnie! Dawn Dawn Dawnie! Heya! Yeah, I'm looking at them right now! I see that you finally managed to slip a noose around Bleach Boy! Congrats! That makes you guys graduates of Xander's Hard School of Knocks!

I laughed hard. "Yeah, thanks! Isn't it great! I can't wait to tell Buffy." A strand of hair had strayed into my face, so I used the act of flipping it away as cover for stealing a glance at Spike who couldn't have missed the fact that he was being discussed.

Spike still had his attention glued to Peggy, apparently pretending not be eavesdropping. Really, their chemistry wasn't that startling, considering. Hello Kitty has a real talent for hooking guys and reeling them in. Sugar and flies; honey and bees. I was sorta surprised, though, in Spike.

I guess Buffy waited too long for Spike to come to her.

When we first learned of his resurrection in LA, I told her over and over again to just pick up the phone and call him, but Buffy insisted that he had to want to come to her. She couldn't chase him down and rope him into something before he was ready.

At first, Buffy was positive that he'd come back to her. She even dumped Romeo Valerius AKA The Immortal in a pre-emptive move to nix boyfriend rivalries in the bud. It was probably the first time that Romeo's ever been dumped in his archaic existence. The look on his face was classic. I loved every second of it.

Time passed and Buffy clung to her faith. (Not that Faith, you sick pervert! EWWW!) It was a year before she finally accepted Spike wasn't coming to her.

Still, I told her to go after him. You know. If you love something and set it free, and it doesn't come back to you, then hunt it down and beat some sense into him.

But you know Buffy.

Big sister always knows best.

Big sister knowitall.

Big sister all alone and lonely.

Stupid sister.

"…Sharon and I definitely want you there for the wedding. The ceremony's in Vegas at the end of the June," Xander said, suddenly yanking my attention back to the conversation.

"What! You're getting married!" I yelped, shooting up out of my chair and launching into the start of yet another happy-feet dance. "OH MY GOD! XANDER! CONGRATULATIONS!"

All of the others, were staring at me now, including Spike and Peggy. "Harris is gonna take another crack at tying the knot?" Spike asked into the lull. "What sort of demon is the lovely bride-to-be?" He quirked his scared brow like he does when he thinks he's being clever and cute.

"Tell Spike to shut up!" Xander snapped, having heard. "Sharon is Fey," he muttered in an outraged undertone, self-defending his wounded ego. "Completely different altogether."

Ears ever acute, Spike cackled like a hyena. "Good to know some things never change!"

Blake looked askance.

"Demon magnet," I mouthed. Ling Ling and Sasha were both nodding their heads yes. They were there when Xander got kidnapped by harpies and became the love-interest of a Gorgon.

"What's he saying?" Xander demanded, loudly broadcasting his insecurity. And still, Spike laughed.

"Oh hush you." I waved a hand in Spike's face. "When's the big day?" Grabbing for my bag, I dug for a piece of paper and something to write with. I wound up writing down the pertinent facts on the back of our Starbucks receipt, which I'd need for our expense report in order to get reimbursement from the Council.

Xander promised that invitations would go out, but I wasn't taking any chances. The Sanrio Knights and I moved around so much that our lifestyle could only be described as "transitory".

"Are you actually gonna make it down the aisle this time?" I demanded once I had it all down, recapping the pen. "I really like Sharon. I'm gonna get mad if you stand her up the way you did Anya."

I swear, the heat from Xander's blush was so intense that I could feel it through my cell phone on the other side of the world. "I'll be there," he declared, determinedly. He had backbone and commitment. Older and more mature.

"I love Sharon," Xander said. Then, "Besides, Willow's promised that I'll be spending time experiencing the true meaning of Ratdom if I'm not there with bells on."

Willow, in spite of being a fully reformed white witch, is still one of the scariest women alive. EVER. Even her best friends are (occasionally) afraid of her.

"Good," I said. _Score one for Willow._

"Hey, Dawn, I need a favor," Xander said, quiet like, immediately capturing my full attention.

"Sure, Xand, what?"

"I need for the Sanrio Knights to undertake a top-secret mission for me," he said.

I bounced – verily over-eager and excited - beyond screechy exclamation. _Bouncity Bouncity Bounce!_ A mission! _Our_ first real mission! And a top-secret one at that!

"Go on," I urged. _Go go go go go…_

"Okay, listen up-" Xander gave a quick explanation of our proposed mission, which left me stunned and gasping.

"Xander Harris! You're planning to use Council resources and a Council sponsored field ops team for personal gain!" I scolded, secretly thrilled and SO PROUD of him.

"Yep, the privilege of power," Xander agreed, sounding very pleased and very smug. "It's gone to my head. I'm completely corrupt. So, will you do it? Pretty please with sprinkles on top?"

"Sure yes yep absolutely! You can count on it!" I gushed. I had all the details scribbled down on my Starbucks receipt.

There was a loud static pause. "Is Spike still there?" Xander asked, and it had the tone of a prepared question made to seem casual.

"Yes," I said, "Why?"

"No reason," Xander said, too quickly. Then, "There's this thing that the Council might have for him to do. Assuming that he sticks around."

I exhaled, tempted to query, but sensing that it was the wrong time to press. "Okay," I said instead, deliberately bored and vague. Like I'd barely paid attention to what Xander'd said about Spike, and might forget the second we got off the phone. Let Xander stew in his own juices for a while. It'd serve him right for trying to be clever.

The conversation wrapped up, and we said our goodbyes. As I got off the phone, I realized that a parallel development had taken place at the patio table. The Sanrio Knights had finished up their drinks, and were ready to go. They were just waiting on me.

Spike slid to his feet. "Probably should get going," he said. "Been nice meeting all of you." He gave me a hug, and started to walk off, moving with all the haste of a vampire turtle.

My heart froze in my throat. Just like that? He could leave?

I stood there staring after him, looking and feeling lost, just like a little girl of 14 who'd lost her mother and her sister, and all she had left in the whole wide world was one stupid, annoying evil chipped vampire.

"Go on," Sasha said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Go get him. We'll wait at the van."

I glanced at the others, taking in their amused, affectionate expressions and knowing smiles. Without the matter being discussed, the Knights had arrived at a group consensus.

I didn't wait. I launched myself after Spike, sprinting to catch him before he could do that vampire-vanishing thing.

End Part 6.


	7. Touchy Feelings

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 7 – Touchy Feelings

Gary, Indiana

June 2007

Heart racing, I dashed into the dark parking lot after Spike, spinning this way and that trying to figure out where he'd gone. He'd been right in front of me, then POOF!

I didn't understand why he'd been in such a hurry to leave all of the sudden. It'd happened so fast that I hadn't had time to think. He'd just up and said goodbye, and walked off. After a full year of trying to find him, it was terrifying to think that I could lose him again so fast.

Damn, like Xander used to say, _someone oughta bell that vampire…_

"Spike!" I called his name hushed and quiet-like. _No response._

"Spike!"

For about thirty seconds, I thought that I'd fallen victim to a Summers Women curse: losing Spike. I mean, he fought for and won a soul, died in a fiery combustion, and left behind a crater-sized footprint in my sister's heart, and _still_ Buffy hadn't been able to hang onto him.

"SPI-" I turned and walked right into him, colliding with a solid wall of muscle. "-IKE! OoF!"

"What's the matter, Bit?"

"What's the matter!" I grabbed hold of his arm so he couldn't escape again, and then whacked him for good measure. "You come into my life again after _four years _of nothing – not a word, not a letter, not an email!"

"Don't have a computer," Spike interrupted.

"What, you've never heard of an internet café? Don't interrupt!" My finger waved beneath his nose.

"Yes, mum," he said, wearing an obedient smirk.

"I've been worried and wondering this whole time what could be wrong. What's up with you! How you're doing**! It's been four years, Spike!** And you want to know 'What's the matter?'!" My voice'd risen steadily in volume as I scolded him soundly.

"That's the question." _Oh my, did he sound honestly perplexed._

"Why'd you leave?" I demanded.

"It was time to go?" He had a funny little smile on his lips, both amused and puzzled, like he honestly had no idea why I'd run after him.

In the shadows, Spike's expression was hidden to me. His form was a dark silhouette, and it was only the way his shoulders hunched forward, rounding toward hands shoved into trench coat pockets, that cued me into his emotional state.

"Why? You got someone important waiting for you at home?" I asked boldly. "Friends, a girlfriend, a pet cat?"

"No," he said, and it was a tiny word. A slight shake of his head accompanied the denial. He was alone. Poor Spike. Boisterous, gregarious Spike who'd never really been completely alone in his entire long existence. (Spike's history is required reading for all junior Watchers.)

"Matter of fact, I was thinking 'bout pulling up roots n' moving on," he said. "I've lingered here too long."

"Spike, what're you running from?"

"What makes you say that?" He answered a question with a question, not coming right out and lying to me, but evading.

I put my hands on my hips and gave him _the look._ You'd think a vampire as old would be made of tougher stuff, but Spike only held out for a few seconds before a hissing sigh of surrender escaped his lips.

"Crossed some powerful demons in LA, Bit," he explained. "A lot o' good people died, Angel's people, trying to accomplish something significant. I can't afford to settle. Gotta keep moving, always looking over my shoulder."

"That's no way to live!" I cried, shocked with the revelation. I mean The Council had known that Spike was on the move, but to hear him explain that he'd literally been _running for his life_, and that he hadn't come to us for help?

"Why didn't you come to us?" I asked. "I get that you might not trust Watchers-" Giles "-but if not the Council then at least me or Buffy? Willow! There's not a demon in existence that wouldn't think twice about messing with Our Pagan Lady of Light!" _Okay, slight exaggeration. But it's damn close to the truth._

"I couldn't put you, or your friends in danger like that," Spike said, and the _stupid_ _stupid stupid_ vampire obviously believed it.

I huffed, imagining Buffy's outrage over being heroically protected – in other words, a guy making sole decisions – **for her own good. **Hell, it made me mad just hearing it!

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!" My finger thumped Spike's breastbone like a tiny stake, delivering emphasis along with anger. Spike glanced down, so I thumped him a few more times for good measure whilst launching into lecture.

"Not only do you have people who care about you, but it just so happens that it's our job to fight evil! What good are you doing anyone knowing the location and nature of a potential enemy, and keeping that knowledge to yourself!"

_thump thump thump_

My finger started to get sore, so I stuck my hands on my hips. "God! I expect this sort of idiocy from Angel! Not from you!" I exclaimed.

At the same time Spike released a cry of outrage. "Hey! Hittin' below the belt!"

I exhaled. "Okay, yeah, that was a low blow. No more fighting dirty. Sorry."

"You're crediting the Scoobs with a lot more like of me than there ever actually was, Bit," Spike said, sounding immensely weary all of the sudden. "'Cept for you, none of them really wanted to hear from me again."

My mouth fell open, and I stared at Spike slack-jawed. "You broke my sister's heart," I snapped before the unwise words could be stopped. "You were supposed to be the one that'd never leave her, but you did."

Spike flinched. The horrible, awful accusation hung there between the two of us, cast into an irretrievable void of hurtful words. I'd have given anything to call it back, but there was no unmaking of the moment.

"Besides, that's not true," I continued, plowing recklessly onward. Damage done. "It was Xander's idea that we find you, and you can bet that he ran it past the others first. Do you think he'd have had us chasing you for a solid year if people weren't worried about you? Cause no one's chasing Angel. You can take my word on that."

Epic silence.

"Aren't you lonely, Spike?" My tone turned to sympathetic pleading cause I couldn't stop envisioning how terribly lonely he must've been all this time, always running, without friends or companionship. It broke my heart.

"Yeah," Spike admitted with a shrug. But despite the ambiguity, I could read the poignancy in his voice and the slump of his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm lonely."

I reached out and caught his hand, tugged. "Come with us, Spike. Nothing bad will happen. You'll see. Give us a chance. A week. It'll be fun. Besides, I think maybe Peggy's into you."

He hesitated, so obviously tore by indecision, that I found myself holding my breath. "Pleeeeaaaassssseeeee?" I whined, resorting to dirty tactics, wide teary eyes and a trembling lower lip.

Spike caved. An unwilling smile tugged his lips. He'd never been able to resist that look, not when I was 14, and not now. "Okay, yeah, I'll hang around, but just for a week. Alright?"

I squealed and threw my arms around his neck, hugging him so hard that a ridiculous sheepish grin engulfed Spike, and he held me safe.

"As an honorary member of The Sanrio Knights, we already have your code named picked out!" I gushed. "Badtz Maru!"

Spike gazed at me, quizzically quirking his brow. "Badtz Ma-who?"

End Part 7.


	8. Splash

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 8 – Splash

Table Rock Lake, Missouri

June 10th, 2007

"Beeatch…" "Biiiatch…" "Beiiatch…" 

"BIATCH!" Sasha shouted so that the word rang out across the surface of the placid lake. "C'mon, Cinn, stop sayin' it like a white girl!" she teased.

"BIATCH!" I bellowed, howling with laughter, and I suspect, still sayin' it like a white girl. "I am a white girl," I reminded her, wiping at the drool that'd somehow escaped my lips to dribble down my chin.

Ling Ling and Peggy were both laughing at us, and together the four of us had the boat rocking and rolling. Spike and Blake, having adopted a position of smug male superiority, were grinning like idiots, but not chortling like fools.

Spike, ironically enough, was our designated driver…pilot...captain…person in charge of the boat who had to remain sober. He'd been drinking, of course, but assured everyone that he was plenty under control.

"With all this shouting, we're never gonna catch that demon," Blake chided.

"That's fish," Spike retorted, blowing smoke. Us girls had made him move downwind, so he sat leaning against the railing of the bow. The pale gray vapor escaping his lips wafted toward the water, disappearing into the darkness. "Demons love the sound of lush young women giggling beneath moonlight. Like a siren call to all you can eat buffet."

Spike's commentary prompted another round of giggling from us smorgasbord entrees, leading to a loss of motor control that resulted in me smearing gold paint all over Spike's big toe. (Gold is the new red, which is the new black. _Duh.)_

"You're smashed, pet," Spike confided, gazing down at me with bright blue eyes.

"Aint't that the truth!" I succumbed to a giggling fit, drowning hard in the warm haze of booze and fatigue, the dynamic duo coming on the verge of a long, hard day. We'd been on the road, and we'd battled – and defeated – a nest of vampires. And we'd missed dinner, and rented a boat under the pretext of hunting a Loch-ness monstrosity. Only Sasha and Blake had picked up a couple six packs of beer and a bottle of vodka, so the demon-hunt had turned into an on-lake party.

We are in Missouri someplace called 'Lake Table Rock', which is a pretty dumb damn name for a lake…if you ask me.

There's a Loch Nessy type monstery demon here somewhere. Eatin' people. That's why we're here. It's business. Pure business. All business.

_Oh oh oh, my head **hurts**._

Blake's reply was lost to the din, but Spike laughed in reply, and said, "Yeah."

I am interested in what he said, really I am, but _damn this empty tummy and **bad bad beer. **_My whole world is afflux, kaflux, amok…sumthin' like that.

My limbs felt heavy as I dragged my hand back to the gold bottle of nail polish, and it took four tries to get the brush into the little hole.

"Oh, I'm wrecked, smashed, ruined," I remunerated, counting all of the ways that the booze had fucked me up. I have a big vocabulary. It took a while, and I got distracted before I'd finished.

Blake, oh Blake, my hunky, handsome honey boo… You're soooo beaut-ti-ful… Oh oh oh,

You're motoring  
What's your price for flight  
In finding mister right  
You'll be alright tonight

Stupid stupid earbug. Can't get those lyrics outta my head…

By the way, it's been three days since Spike joined our little troupe, in case you're wondering. He's fit in just fine, peachy even, though it was initially a challenge to figure out how we were gonna bring along his bike. Ultimately, we wound up hitching a trailer to the van, which has worked out pretty good.

Spike's motorcycle is cool. It's old, and it's called an 'Indian'. He's promised to take me for a ride just as soon as we get a helmet that'll fit.

Spike's been rooming with Blake, though, with each passing day the sexual innuendo flyin' between him and Peggy gets thicker n' heavier. Just a matter of time till they hook up, I reckon.

It bugs me 'cause Spike is you know supposed to be **Buffy's** property, but I try not to let it get to me. I keep my mouth shut. I avert my eyes when their lips are so close that they might as well be kissing.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, I need to pee. Only my limbs are too heavy and my mood too lazy, and if I can't summon the energy soon, then I'm gonna have a humiliating accident.

My head is swimming, and the conversation is a blur, and my stomach feels like it belongs on my outside. I reached out, blind due to my spinning thoughts, and grabbed hold of the closest support, which happened to be Spike's leg.

"Oh God," I moaned, clinging to his calf like it was the only solid thing in my whole wide world. "I'm gonna puke."

"Not on my foot, yer not," Spike replied, but he pressed a cool, soothing hand to my forehead, and it felt so incredibly good. He stroked back my hair and rested his fingers against the back of my neck and that coolness was the only source of relief for my entire miserable body.

"Told you not to drink so much so fast, Bit," Spike chided, but unlike Buffy or one of the other adults in my life, his voice bore no real reproach, only compassion and understanding.

I love Spike so damn much that I want to cry.

Just then my stomach heaved and I lunged for the side of the boat, spewing the contents of my gut into the dark waters of Table Rock Lake. Spike's hands were right there, offering support, and I suspect that I might've collapsed into the water without him.

"Dawnie, are you okay?" Ling Ling appeared off to my right, and the voices of all the others quieted. They, witnessing my humiliation.

"I love you, Spike," I mumbled, too soft for the others to hear, I hope. But it had to be said cause if I died, then I wanted him to know.

"I love you too, Nibblet," Spike replied with an amused chuckle.

"Ling, I'm dying," I managed to tell Pandapple before my stomach heaved again, and more fluid poured forth from my mouth and nose. Choking, I gasped for air, and the raw vodka made my eyes sting and water.

"Shhh," Ling Ling said, sounding also amused. My treacherous so-called friends… "You're not gonna die, Dawnie. But you're gonna feel like shit in the morning."

Just then this **huge** tentacle whipped up out of the water and twined about Ling Ling's neck. She had no time to react. Eyes bulged. No scream. Then she and the tentacle disappeared with a quiet **splash.**

The Table Rock Lake monster, I presume.

**Fuck.**

End Part 8.


	9. Sushi?

Title: Sanrio Knights

Author: Acerbic

Time: Post Chosen / NFA

Rating: PG-13 (A swear word or two)

Part 9 – Sushi?

Table Rock Lake, Missouri

June 10th, 2007

A shrill, terrible ear-splitting monster shriek rent the air as the hideous monstrosity-

-Oh wait! Is that _me?_

My jaw snapped shut, stifling that god awful sound, and for a split second, I was horribly embarrassed. I'm supposed to be the Original Slayer's Sister, yanno? Which means that vampires and demons are run-of-the-mill. Yawn-worthy even.

It's weird how in the split second following a disaster there's nothing but absolute stillness. Time froze, and the setting around me clarified, a thousand tiny details that I'd failed to register previously. The sickle shaped moon overhead.

The sweet sticky heat of the Missouri night. The way the lake lapped against the boat, causing it to bob with gentle rolling motion. Lightning bugs. Starlight. The bottle of gold nail polish had spilled. _I wondered if we would get our deposit back?_

Oh yeah, the surge of adrenaline cleared up my head real fast. However, my reflexes were a whole nother matter, and my muscles remained paralyzed even as I registered that Spike had grabbed an axe from the floor of the boat. The others around me were likewise in motion even as I remained obscenely frozen in place.

Another tentacle rose up out of the water, moving with the deadly precision of a cobra toward my face. It was thick at the base, slender at the tip, the width gradually tapering from two feet to three inches. Sucker cups lined the ventral side, and the dorsal flesh had a thick rubbery consistency. To all extents and purposes, it resembled the arm of an octopus.

Giant.

The tip of the tentacle whipped toward my face, and I just sat there, lacking the sense to be terrified cause my mind was too busy analyzing the monster's anatomy. Luckily for me, Spike wasn't so foolishly preoccupied.

Spike caught the lashing appendage with his left arm, grabbing with his hand and wrapping it once around his wrist just like a rope. Then he swung the axe and lopped off about three feet of tentacle.

"Here," he said, and dropped his trophy into my lap. The severed tentacle continued to writhe and twitch, viscous blood oozing forth from the cut.

Promptly, I shrieked, recovering my ability to move, and dumped the squirmy thing on the floor. Around us, the others were likewise engaged in fending off tentacles, and there was no sign of Ling Ling.

"This is wrong," I said. "This was supposed to be a typical plesiosaurs dating to the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods, a pre-historic dinosaur trapped in an inland body of fresh water as the oceans retreated. They're shy herd creatures who've evolved invisibility that protects them from being seen the vast majority of the time. It's so effective that when they're photographed, they appear to be a log or overturned boat, or they generate imperfections in the actual photo process, which makes the picture appear to be a hoax. Except of course when certain astronomical alignments occur, or large quantities of alcoholic beverages consumed, which enables people to glimpse them, but such sightings are typically attributed to drunken hallucinations-"

Okay, yeah, I _do _tend to babble. So sue me. It's something they do to you in Watcher School: techno-babble implant.

"What's yer point, Bit?" Spike demanded, hacking higher up along his tentacle.

"This creature is a cephalopod of an order similar to Octopoda, only it's a giant species! It was probably somebody's pet that got too big for its tank, so they dumped it into the lake!"

"I'm going in after Ling Ling!" Peggy shouted, and dove over the side, clutching a twelve-inch knife between her teeth, freeing her hands up for swimming. Galvanized, Sasha and Blake promptly followed suit, disappearing into the water before I had a chance to finish.

Thank God, Spike thought that what I had to say was important enough to delay. "**Point, Bit?" **

"Aim for the eyes!"

Spike didn't nod, but I knew that he'd heard me. He disappeared over the side along with his axe, joining the others in the water, and leaving me alone in the boat. For a minute, the water was totally placid without a hint of my team or the monster. It was the freakiest, scariest moment of my life as I sat there in that empty boat, envisioning all of my friends drowning, twined in the clutches of an overgrown appetizer.

Except Spike, of course, because he didn't need to breathe so he _couldn't_ drown. That knowledge, and having him there, provided me with an infinite amount of comfort until first air bubbles appeared and then heads began to surface. The gasps for air were loud and startling in the otherwise quiet lake night.

"It's dead," Spike's distinct voice announced. "I got the eyes."

"Anyone up for sushi?" said someone too weak and breathy for me to identify the joker.

"Head count!" I shouted. "Blake!"

I am not biased because I started with Blake. No, I am not… 

"Here!"

"Peggy!"

"Yo!"

"I'm here!" Sasha shouted, skipping her place in role call, which was totally okay with me.

"Who's got Ling Ling?" I demanded, frantically rounding the boat, counting heads, looking for one swimmer to be supporting our poor Pandapple. Only…there were single swimmers with empty arms. No Ling Ling.

"Who's got her?" I yelled, flying into a panic. The boat became a cage with invisible walls as I flew round and round, scanning the dark water for any sign of bubbles or body.

"Everyone down!" Blake called, and there was another round of loudly drawn breaths, then kicks and splashes, as the entire team went under.

Frantic, I kicked off my shoes, and dove off the side of the boat, joining the search.

I am no longer drunk. Sheer, blind terror has sobered me up.

End Part 9.


End file.
